


Plots to Bring Disaster

by thephantomrunner



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: 5 Things, 90's Sunset Curve, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, M/M, Sunset Curve (Julie and The Phantoms)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thephantomrunner/pseuds/thephantomrunner
Summary: “Oh my god,whatare you doing?!” Alex exclaimed, his exasperated voice caused Luke and Reggie to turn towards him.He rubbed his eyes tiredly: Why? All he wanted to know waswhy?Or: Five times Alex walked in on Reggie and Luke doing something that made him roll his eyes.
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 182





	1. Piercings

**Author's Note:**

> Sweet reader, thank you for clicking on my dumb story about these dumb boys that I love very much. I hope I didn't write them to OOC or anything!
> 
> Uhhh I do mention blood and needles in this chapter, but it is nothing major.
> 
> Anyway! I hope you enjoy it! <3

“Oh my god, _what_ are you doing?” Alex held out the vowel in the interrogative word. His exasperated voice caused Luke and Reggie to turn towards him. 

He rubbed his eyes tiredly: Why?

He had been paired with Luke for their History project and they’d planned to meet at the other boy’s house to work on it that afternoon. Mrs. Patterson had kindly let him in, telling him that Luke was upstairs with Reggie. He wasn’t necessarily surprised that Reggie was there-Reggie was always there- he just figured he’d be somewhere working on his own project; Alex figured that he probably just didn’t feel like spending his Sunday in his house with his parents.

He was about to turn the corner into Luke’s bedroom when he had heard the muffled voices coming from the bathroom down the hall; he recognized them to be the voice of his two friends. The bathroom door had been left open so he followed his ears. He had barely been able to suppress a groan.

The scene in front of him was this: Reggie was sitting on the bathroom counter holding an ice cube to his ear, Luke was standing between his legs, his back turned to Alex. He couldn’t quite make out what he was doing, but the ice on Reggie’s ear was indication enough. 

Luke stepped back when he heard Alex’s voice. 

“Oh, hey Alex!” Reggie smiled, waving with his free hand. 

“Jesus,” he ran his hand over his face, starting at the ceiling. “Reginald. Reggie, Reggie, Reggie,” he gestured tiredly to the display in front of him “Reg, why?” his voice was wary and dry. He turned to the other boy “Luke, why?” 

Luke tossed him an innocent smile while Reggie went to explain, “Well, things were starting to get intense between my parents at home so I wanted to leave before it got really loud… I was gonna go out and get a piercing, you know?” 

“No.” Alex deadpanned, “I don’t,” 

“Well, I wanted to get a piercing and I know Luke had been tossing around the idea of getting one for a while, so I called to see if he wanted to come with me,” he swung his legs, his boots hitting the doors of the cabinet beneath him. “Instead he suggested I come over and he’d do it for me!” 

Alex inhaled a breath through his nose, “Reggie, that is _so—,”_

“Much cheaper!” Luke interjected enthusiastically. 

“Gross. I was gonna say gross, dude,” Alex finished his previous statement with a shake of his head. 

“Okay, Mr. Judgmental,” Luke said, pouting slightly, “Look, I washed my hands,” he held up his hands, as if to show him there were no germs left, “I burned the needle,” 

“Germ assassin!” Reggie held up the needle, making sure he didn’t touch the end that Luke had ‘sterilized’. 

“There’s some peroxide. Cotton balls in case it bleeds… ” Luke held up each item as he named it, “We have the actual earring… Reg has some ice to numb it a little,” 

“Do I even _want_ to know what the apple is for?” He prudently eyed the slice of apple resting on a paper towel. 

“It’s for when the needle-” 

“No, nevermind. I do _not_ want to know... ” Alex shook his head, “Luke, we have a project we need to do and you know how my mother is about me missing Sunday dinner. We need to get started,” 

“Yes, sir,” Luke nodded militantly, “I’ll be done real quick, give me a sec, okay?” he held up a finger, repositioning himself in front of Reggie.

“No, dude, not okay! This is a _terrible_ idea!” He groaned as Luke ran a hand through his hair which only caused him to groan louder. He knew if he hadn’t been there, Luke wouldn’t have washed his hands after touching his hair. 

“See? Now your hands are dirty; you’re not even wearing _gloves!_ You’re gonna give him an infection,” he warned, “And then? I’m going to rub it in your face and laugh at you…,” he considered this before adding, “Then I’d actually, _probably_ start crying because I don’t like seeing Reggie in pain…” he could see the entire scene playing out; Reggie’s ear red, swollen, bloody and bruised with infection seeping out of it. He could hear the other boy complaining about the pain in his ear, eventually spreading to other parts of his body and requiring antibiotics. He could see him bedridden with a fever because the infection had entered his bloodstream. He pictured himself, Bobby and Luke dressed in all black standing mournfully over Reggie's bass after his funeral… 

The thought made him shudder. He didn’t want to think about Reggie dying from sepsis. Or Reggie dying at all, really. He knew part of it was his anxiety acting in overdrive, but the other part of him knew that Reggie and Luke got into some _dumb shit_ when he and Bobby weren’t around. He was not about to let Luke kill Reggie. 

“Dude, will you chill out? I’ve got this! I’ve done it hundreds of times,” Luke reassured him. 

“Really?” The skepticism was dripping in Alex’s voice. 

“Okay… not hundreds of times but remember Callie?” Callie was Luke’s ex-girlfriend from freshman year, “I pierced her ears and they didn’t get infected- she still has the piercings!” He grinned proudly, going back to pick up the needle. Alex winced. 

“Could you _at least_ rewash your hands?” he implored. Luke rolled his eyes but obliged nonetheless. Alex watched intently as he pumped the soap onto his hands. He sang the ABC’s under his breath while Luke rubbed his hands together under the water; he needed to ensure he was being thorough. 

“Happy now?” Luke teased, drying his hands on a towel. 

“As a lark,” Alex deadpanned. Luke grinned back at him as Reggie laughed, removing the ice from his ear. 

Luke picked up the needle again, getting himself back into position. Alex let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, “Reggie, just go to an actual piercer,” he begged, “Like the one you went to last time? He did a good job, right?” 

“ _Alex._ Go wait in my bedroom,” Luke shook out his shoulders, flexing his fingers, “You have this magical talent of making _literally everybody else_ nervous when your nervous. If my hands are shaking I could, I don’t know, slice Reggie’s ear off,” he said seriously.

The comment caused Alex’s eyes to widen comically. _Could you cut someone's ear off with a needle?_

“Oh, my god, I’m _kidding,”_ he could only hear Reggie chuckle before Luke pushed him gently from the bathroom, closing the door behind him. “We’ll be done in a minute, then we’ll start working on the project, I promise,” his voice was muffled from behind the door. 

Luke had just touched his shirt _and the door,_ “Wash your hands!” he commanded, but he knew it was in vain. When he received no reply, he headed to Luke's room, shaking his head. _He’d tried to help them..._

He twisted the bracelets on his wrist and played ‘I Spy’ with the posters on Luke’s walls as he waited with anticipation. He hadn’t heard any screams and neither one had called him in an emergency; he took it as a good sign. 

Eventually, he heard the click of the bathroom door followed by Reggie and Luke’s quiet laughter. Reggie appeared in the bedroom doorway a bright smile on his face. 

“Ta-da!” he turned his face to the side so Alex could see the fruit of Luke’s labor. There was a silver hoop on his helix; the skin around it was slightly red, but Alex supposed that was to be expected after a needle pierced through your skin. He folded his arms.

“It’s awesome, right?” Luke appeared behind Reggie, joining Alex in viewing the piercing. 

Alex hated to admit that it looked good. 

Great, actually. 

“You look so hot,” Luke complimented with a smile. “I mean, you always look hot, but damn, I did a good job!” he exclaimed triumphantly.

“Do Alex next!” Reggie joked.

“Hell no,” he smiled sweetly, eliciting laughs from the other two boys, “But yes, Reg, it does… kinda, sorta... look hot on you,” he agreed, rolling his eyes with a genuine smile. 

Luke and Reggie exchanged high fives with massive grins on his face; he could only imagine what they could possibly get up to next.


	2. Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex walks in on Luke and Reggie's attempt at baking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, welcome back! Thanks so much for clicking my story and continuing to read it! 
> 
> Also thank you if you left comments or kudos on the last chapter— they make me so soft 🥺
> 
> Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter so I hope you like it ❤️
> 
> <3

He was supposed to drive by the Patterson household to pick up Luke and Reggie at 3 pm; they were planning on heading to the mall to pick up a gift for Bobby’s birthday tomorrow. 

Alex, who had spent the entirety of the evening and early morning trying to figure out what the _hell_ he was supposed to do to solve a logarithmic equation, was currently sprawled out on his bedroom floor, using his calculator as a pillow with his sweatshirt pulled over his eyes. There was a soft knocking that was drumming in the background: it was steady, calming, and certainly not enough to pull him out of his feverish sleep. 

“Alex?” The knocking had escalated to banging and the mention of his name was enough to send a jolt of energy through his body, but not enough for him to fully resurface into the realm of consciousness. 

“Alex!” 

“What?” his voice sounded foreign to him; did he say that aloud, or was that a part of the dream he was in the middle of? 

There was more pounding on the other side of the door followed by the question, “Can I come in?” 

Alex pushed his hoodie off his face, the bright light momentarily impairing his vision. As his sleep-clouded mind began to clear, he recognized the voice to be that of his younger sister, Beth; she didn’t wait for a reply before walking into his room. 

“Alex, Luke just called. Again. He’s called a _bajillion_ times. He said he called your phone too, but you didn’t pick up. Mom is basically pulling her hair out trying to shut the phone up; she's a phone call away from cutting the chords,” 

He rubbed his face, _why hadn’t anyone come to get him?_ He pictured his thick Motorola cell, hidden underneath notebooks and binders in his bag; his use of his personal cell was limited as he couldn't wrap his head around advancing technologies, resolving it was easier to use the landline. 

“I came up here twice to tell you, but every time I knocked, you told me to go away,” she folded her arms, “but now _I’m_ about to pull my hair out and I'm also considering cutting the chords on the phone. I tried telling him that you were sleeping, but this time he said it was an emergency…” At that, the fog completely evaporated in his brain, and his eyes flicked towards the clock. 

5:39.

He instantly felt both guilt and panic surge through him. He felt guilty because he’d made plans with his friends- plans that relied on his driving- so they could do something nice for their other friend; he had basically let down _everybody._ He felt panic because when Luke said ‘emergency’, it could be anything ranging from getting a paper cut, to losing his favorite guitar pick or breaking a limb. 

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he muttered, slipping his hoodie over his head and standing up; he wasn’t even properly dressed. “You should’ve just, I don’t know, thrown water on me or something,” he didn’t bother changing out of yesterday’s sweatpants; instead, he quickly ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair, hiding it under his hat. 

Beth was eyeing him, giving him a look that said she was aware of how he would’ve reacted if she had actually thrown water on him. She snorted, “I mean, you went to bed on your floor at almost 6 am. You probably just needed the sleep,” 

He clumsily tied his shoelaces together, most of her words floating in one ear and out of the other, “If Luke calls again, tell him I’m on my way, okay?” he commanded, grabbing his fanny pack, haphazardly clipping it around his body and tripping out of his room. “Thanks, Beth!” he called over his shoulder.

He stumbled down the stairs, grabbing his car keys. He ignored the way his mother turned her back when he reached the entrance of the living room, an air of aloofness radiating off of her. At the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care; his top priority was to make sure his friends weren’t angry with him for blowing them off, and also to make sure that they hadn’t accidentally _killed someone._

Alex typically prided himself on being a safe driver, but he was stripped of that when he hopped into his car and barreled down the street towards Luke's house. 

His brain used the short drive to prepare an apology; unless they had found an alternative way to get to the mall while they waited for him, none of them had anything to give Bobby tomorrow... which was entirely his fault. His guilt only intensified as he imagined them sulking on the couch with their arms folded, their anger directed towards him, and his inability to follow through with plans. While he was at it, he might as well concoct an apology for Bobby too: _Happy Birthday! I love you dude, but I blew off Reggie and Luke because I have no respect for their time! Sleeping and taking care of my selfish, personal needs was way more important than acknowledging your birth because I’m a sucky friend!_

Taking a breath, he forced himself to rationalize his thoughts before they could spiral any further; most of the stores at the mall didn’t close for another two hours- they still had time to go if they wanted to. Luke and Reggie were the least intimidating people when they were angry, and if they still had two hours to go to the mall, they shouldn’t be _too_ angry with him, right? And Bobby? He was like a fucking hippie- he didn’t care much about material possessions... right? 

When he rolled up to the Patterson residence, he noted just how neat and serene it looked. He also noticed that there was no car in the driveway, a disturbing sign that Luke Patterson was indeed home alone by himself, unsupervised…. with Reggie Peters, no less.

He briskly walked to Luke's door, as if his quick pace would make up for him being _two hours late._ He twisted the door handle, knowing that if Luke was home by himself, the doors were undoubtedly unlocked. Upon proving himself correct and stepping inside, he was greeted with a loud cacophony of crashing metal followed by a shriek, expletives, and then laughter.

He sighed, feeling any anxious energy slough off of his shoulders; now he was just _tired_ and filled with exasperated energy as he tried imagining what caused the noise. 

The sound led him to the kitchen where his jaw dropped in horror.

The scene in front of him was this: Reggie was standing with his back turned to the kitchen entrance, his flannel tied around his waist with a silver bowl in his hands. His black tank top was unrecognizable; it had been recolored grey by the layer of flour that was currently coating it. He was stirring something, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he did so. Luke was on the floor, gathering an array of pots and pans that must’ve fallen in the crash Alex heard. His hair was a mess, there was a smear of something white on his cheek, and his pants were covered in the same flour that Reggie wore. There was broken glass surrounded by a brown liquid in the corner of the room and Alex recognized that it was a bottle of vanilla extract. It made the room smell sweet and pleasant, a stark contrast to the chaos that filled his vision; Emily was going to kill Luke for wasting her expensive pure vanilla bean extract- if Alex didn’t kill him first. 

Along with vanilla, there was a lingering smell of something burning coupled with a light fog of smoke that was lurking in the room. He noticed that the windows had been opened; an indication that the smoke alarm had gone off. His eyes turned back to Luke, who was now under the kitchen table trying to pick up several measuring spoons that had apparently spilled. 

“Do we have any more baking powder?” Reggie asked without turning around. His focus was completely on whatever he was stirring, “Also, do you have a mixer? Because, dude, my arms are getting _tired,”_ he complained dramatically. 

“Yeah, Reg, give me one se-- oh, shoot, _ow!”_ Alex looked back to Luke who had hit his head trying to come from underneath the table- he was trying to move the chairs, some of which were still neatly pushed in under the table; he had no idea how Luke managed to cram himself into the tight space.

He screwed his eyes shut when he realized that the eggs currently resting on the table were about to roll off the table and crack on the floor. Surprisingly, Reggie didn’t acknowledge the sound of the breaking eggs because he was still completely immersed in stirring his mixture, and Alex didn’t have the presence of mind to help his friend who was still struggling to get from under the table. Instead, he watched in awe as Luke accidentally put his hand in the raw egg yolk, slipping and dropping the dishes he had been trying to collect. The crash of metal was enough to cause Reggie to turn around, his eyes widening comically when he saw Luke hunched under the table. 

Luke’s laugh was carefree, “… a little help?” 

When Reggie walked over to help Luke, he finally caught sight of Alex who was still standing in the doorway, his mouth gaping and his eyebrows touching his hairline. 

_Two hours._ He had been late by _two hours,_ and somehow in those two hours they had managed to destroy Luke’s _entire_ kitchen; _how was that even possible??_

Reggies faced brightened with a smile, “Hey Alex!” he waved, powder shaking from his hands as he performed the gesture. 

“Alex is here?” Luke said from under the table, his voice sounding far away, “Finally!” he didn’t sound angry, which Alex supposed should be relieving, but he was too frozen with shock to form a coherent thought. “Hi Alex!” he heard the other boy grunt trying to escape from the table again. He watched in horror as the table shifted by another inch as his leg haphazardly collided with one of the table legs. A plastic cup of water slipped at the sudden jerk, leaking its contents onto the floor. 

“Oops,” Reggie commented lightly, picking up the cup and moving one of the chairs further out so Luke could easily slink from the wooden cage. 

“What did… how did this...?” He gestured wildly to the mess in front of him, “Why are-- _how did you?_ What…,” he struggled to get his brain to catch up with his mouth. 

“ _Why are you like this??”_ he finally exclaimed, tilting his head back in exasperation and- was that _food_ on the ceiling? He shoved his hands into his pockets and squeezed his eyes shut; this must be their revenge for his failure to be on time. 

Still, he didn’t think he deserved _this._

Luke, who had finally made it to his feet, walked over to him. Alex took a subconscious step back.

“ _What_ are you doing? _Why..._ are you doing?” he finished unceremoniously. 

Luke shrugged, “Well, I called your cell a bunch, but you never pick up anyway so I don’t even know why I bothered with that,” He carelessly ran a hand through his hair, smearing egg yolk in it. He didn’t seem to notice. Alex sucked in a breath, “ Then I called your house and your sister said you were asleep so I thought you were just napping and would be over soon. But then I called again and you were _still_ sleeping. Honestly, I figured you were cramming for a test or something so you didn’t have to worry when the rest of the weekend got busy. Figured you were probably exhausted.” 

“Beth said you were up from like 12 to 6 am. That's some serious studying, man!” Reggie pulled his feet up, sitting cross-legged on the chair he just pulled out to aid in Luke’s escape. 

“Instead of going to the mall, we figured while you were asleep we could make Bobby a cake for his birthday! We have all the stuff and my parents won’t be home until late tonight… date night or whatever… " He shrugged, setting the pans on the counter, "We did a test run, but we accidentally set that on fire...," 

_Well, that explained smoke and opened windows,_

"Yeah, dude, microwaving cakes? Bad idea," Reggie shuddered while Luke nodded in concurrence.

"Anyway, you’re probably the best baker out of all of us because you like reading instructions and stuff-” 

_“Recipes?”_ Alex asked, incredulously cutting Luke off. 

Luke ignored him and continued with, “But we wanted to start early just so we had enough time to clean up before my parents came back,”

_This is going to take way longer to clean than it takes to bake a cake,_ Alex thought with a roll of his eyes. 

“We only called again because we couldn’t reach the vanilla on the top shelf…” Reggie looked forlornly at the pile of broken glass in the corner. 

There was a strong image of Luke climbing onto Reggie's shoulders in an attempt to reach the vanilla flashing through Alex’s brain. 

“I tried tossing stuff up there hoping to hit it, knock it down and then Reggie was _supposed_ to catch it…,” he shot the other boy a playful glare. 

“Hey! I had butter on my hands! _Literal butterfingers,_ Luke!” He exclaimed, holding up his hands. 

Somehow, Alex found this idea even _dumber_ than his original guess that Reggie had lifted Luke, “Or you could’ve just… you know,” he gestured to the four chairs around the table, “Used a chair like a normal… okay,” he let the words fade on his tongue with a shake of his head.

“See? Genius.” Luke snapped his fingers, pointing at him seriously. “And now that we have your genius brain with us, we can finish the cake!” Reggie hopped off his chair with an enthusiastic cheer. He dusted himself off- quite literally- before turning around, ready to finish his project. 

After washing his hands, Alex quickly learned that Luke and Reggie had done a large bulk of the work already; Luke had made the icing while Reggie had made the cake batter. After it finished baking, the only remaining things to do were to frost it… and also clean the monster of a mess his friends had created. 

He was surprised that any ingredients had made it into the cake at all… most of it was on the counter, smeared on the floor, and even splattered on the walls; he didn’t want to know how it got there, but he knew he was absolutely _not_ going to help them clean it up. They had decided to destroy the kitchen- not him.

While Luke and Reg pulled the cleaning supplies from the closet, Alex took the cake and icing to the dining room, placing it gently on the table. It hadn’t actually turned out that badly; the cake was a bit sunken in the middle, but he’d done his best to even it out, nibbling on the remnants he’d trimmed. The icing was a decent consistency and easily spread onto the soft sponge- it was also far too sugary to be edible, but he didn’t have the heart to mention it to Luke. The gesture really was sweet and he knew Bobby would love it more than anything they could’ve bought for him- even if Luke's icing _did_ make his teeth fall out. 

The muffled laugher and hushed voices poured out of the kitchen along with the scrubbing of brushes and running water. 

Alex rolled his eyes with a fond smile. 

_Dumbasses._


	3. Not Painting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reggie's parents made it abundantly clear that he was not allowed to paint his walls...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, reader! Welcome back and thanks for clicking and reading my story :) 
> 
> It took me longer than I wanted to get this posted but c'est la vie, I suppose. Anyway, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter (or the next one, really. I’m super excited for the last one so I hope you stick around aha)
> 
> Thank you if you commented and left kudos on my previous chapters,,, it means so much and I'm sending lots of virtual hugs and cookies <3
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Reggie really liked the color red; for as long as Alex could remember, red had been Reggie Peters' favorite color. In first grade, he refused to write in anything but his red crayon, (which proved to be a bit of a problem when teachers were grading his spelling test) he had an impressive array of red shirts, and there was, of course, his red bass. He had a ridiculous red strip of hair in his eighth-grade yearbook photo and ridiculous rubber bands on his braces their freshman year. 

When they had turned 15, the only thing Reggie really wanted was to repaint his room red. He usually never asked much of his parents, and Alex thought it was a reasonable request. Mr. and Mrs. Peters couldn't have been more against the idea. Reggie had vented at band practice later that day, claiming that his room had ‘no personality’ and that it was ‘boring’. It had quickly turned into a conversation about conformity, how Reggie fully believed that his parents were 'suffering in a boring house', so they wanted him to 'suffer in his boring room.' Before The Peters' family began falling apart, in middle school, Alex used to spend a lot more time at Reggie's house. He had deduced that the overall decoration in the household was plain; there were no expensive art pieces hanging on the walls like there were at his own home, no candles and plants like at Bobby’s, and certainly not the display of family photos that decorated The Pattersons. Reggie’s house was plain in the sense that things were constantly being removed, put away as if his parents were waiting for the day they split, packed up, took the items that belonged to them, and ultimately left. He completely agreed with Reggie; his house did look empty and boring. Reggie’s room was a different story, though. His room was rather large, the stark white walls making it feel even bigger. His room was furnished with various hues of black and red and he had decorated it with various knick-knacks, posters that made it feel homier than the rest of his house. Alex liked his room, but Reggie just couldn’t seem to overlook the lack of color on the walls, no matter how many posters hung off of them. Even getting the posters up had seemed strenuous to his parents; they were afraid the tape would peel the walls, or leave a mark, or that Reggie would inevitably ruin something. 

Reggie had invited him, Bobby, and Luke to his house today- Saturday. Alex had thought the invitation was rather odd because this never happened anymore; Reggie typically never wanted to spend more time in his house than he had to. The environment was always tense and it was hard to talk over the shouting matches constantly being had. This time, though, Reggie explained that his parents had gone out of town for the weekend, in another (probably futile) attempt to salvage their marriage. That meant that Reggie and his brothers had the house to himself, undoubtedly with Reggie in charge. 

Reggie had requested that they arrive at 12 and to bring ‘anything to write with that was red but wasn’t red paint’ because he ‘needed their help’ with ‘something.’ His directions were dangerously specific and caused Alex to suppress a sigh; he sensed that deep breaths and a whole lot of patience was going to be needed this afternoon. Nevertheless, he had gathered some red sharpies and oil pastels, slipping them into his fanny pack, promising he would be there after Beth’s ballet performance at 1 o’clock. 

He ended up pulling up in front of The Peters' residence and ringing the door at about 3:00, only feeling slightly bad for being so late after taking Beth out for smoothies- her dance recitals always put him in a good mood and he was proud of her. 

“Hey, man,” it was Bobby who answered the door. 

“Hey, Bobby,” Alex slipped off his shoes, leaving them at the front, “Where is everybody?” he questioned. The house was quiet, another thing that never happened. Ever. Reggie’s parents would be at each other's throats, competing for the title of 'loudest screamer'. Since they weren’t home that meant that Luke and Reggie- or one of Reggie’s brothers- would be the source of the noise: maybe from the static of the tv, the radio, or from the soft hum of Reggie's unplugged bass, laughter, or _anything._ There was no indication that anyone was home except for the natural sun and the bright light streaming from Reggie’s room upstairs.

“Reggie’s room,” Bobby responded, there was a slight roll of his eye that accompanied it. 

Dear God. 

“What are you guys up to?” he sighed. 

Bobby chucked in response, “What _they’re_ up to. I have absolutely nothing to do with this,” 

“Are we here alone?” Somehow even though they were younger, it seemed like a smarter idea to leave Daniel and Michael in charge. Reggie was the kind of person that took being in charge as the perfect opportunity to let his chaotic ideas seep through. 

Bobby nodded, “Both little bros are at their friend's houses,”

“Bobby," he groaned, "Am I gonna like this?” The last time he’d found Luke and Reggie doing something that made him want to scream into a pillow, they’d absolutely destroyed Luke’s kitchen, spilling and breaking things in ways Alex hadn’t even known was possible, “Why did Reg ask me to bring red writing stuff?” he started walking up the stairs, already expecting the worst. 

“Honestly, Lex, you’ll just have to see for yourself… although, I think Mrs. Peters is more likely to have an aneurysm than you will,” Bobby said, following Alex’s path up the stairs. 

He gently pushed the dark wooden door open, revealing the two busy boys and their project. His eyes widened. 

The scene in front of him was this: Reggie standing on a ladder in the farthest corner of the room, his back turned to Alex, a sharpie in one hand and a ruler in the other. His sharpie was aimed directly at the wall as he colored in the giant stencil of a guitar that Luke must’ve drawn for him; the squeaking of the marker against the white plaster caused Alex's flesh to crawl. There were cutouts of various shapes on the ground along with a rickety old projector positioned in the middle of the room. On the opposite side of the room sat Luke, his legs were crossed and he was working towards the bottom of the wall, doodling with a red crayon. His tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth as he hummed a tune in concentration. The doodles were big and cartoony, circular and bubbly, fun and boldly lined. They were so very Reggie: puppies, pizza, UFO’s, doodled hearts, common and motivational sayings.

“Reginald, what on _earth?”_ was the only thing he could manage to say. He heard Bobby let out a laugh as he plopped down on Reggie’s bed, picking up a bag of pretzels instead of going to the walls and using one of the markers littering the ground. 

Despite his speechlessness, he was rather relieved; this was, by far, one of the tamest endeavors Luke and Reggie had embarked on. However, that acknowledgment didn’t stop Alex from letting out a groan. At the end of the day, they were still _drawing on the walls._ The last time Alex could recall doing that he was _three years old._

He told himself he didn’t have to care so much, after all, this was Reggie’s room- not his. Still, he couldn’t help but cringe thinking about the inevitable load of trouble his best friend was going to get in with his parents. He didn't want him to be upset. He hated seeing Reggie upset. Bobby had been right, though, Mrs. Peters _was_ going to have an aneurysm. 

“Alex!” Reggie exclaimed at the sound of Alex’s voice, turning around a bit too quickly and slipping off the stool. Alex shot across the room in an attempt to catch the other boy, albeit unsuccessfully. The stool toppled over and Reggie landed on the ground with an unceremonious thud, causing Bobby and Luke to turn in concern. 

“Ow,” Reggie whined, “Alex, look what you made me do!” he pointed at the thin of red sharpie he’d accidentally scribbled when he’d fallen from the stool.

Alex held his hands up in a surrendering gesture, “That one’s all on you, Reg,” he extended his hand to help him up, “What are you doing anyway?” he’d figured out what they were doing, now he needed to figure out _why_ they were doing it.

“Reggie’s parents suck,” Luke answered as if that explained everything. A dark red crayon was positioned between his teeth as he sketched with a lighter red marker. Reggie gave another whine, this time one of disagreement. Luke turned around again, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"They kinda suck, Reg," Bobby agreed, causing Reggie to huff reluctantly, “Okay, fine, yeah, they suck." he made a pinching symbol with his fingers adding, "but only a little!” 

“So you decided to get back at them by… vandalizing… your room?” Alex said, pulling out the art supplies he’d stuffed into his fanny pack. Reggie’s eyes lit up at the sight of them.

“Oh, sweet!” he exclaimed, taking an oil pastel, “And I’m not getting back at them!” 

“Uh, yeah, you basically are,” Bobby deadpanned, tossing a pretzel into his mouth. 

“I’m not!” he protested.

“Then what would you call this, Reginald?” Alex gestured to the cartoony graffiti-like art decorating the walls before flopping onto Reggie’s red bean-bag. 

“We’re sticking it to the man!” Luke said. Reggie nodded proudly, stepping back onto the stepstool. 

"That's literally getting back at them, Luke," Alex eyed them warily. He hated to admit that what they’d accomplished so far, though a bit amateur, looked cool as fuck. But as cool as it looked, there was absolutely no way Reggie's parents would share his sentiments, “They literally said you weren’t allowed to paint your walls. And before you say ‘no they didn’t’, I’ve listened to your rants about this almost every day for the past _year.”_

“Alex, that’s a marker,” Luke said dumbly, pointing a finger at what Reggie was currently writing with. 

“And that? That’s a crayon.” Reggie gestured to the crayon Luke had taken out of his mouth. 

“Okay… and?” He struggled to find the relevance in the statements his friends just made, “That's a stool. There’s a lamp. That's a poster. That? Yeah, that's a bed. And this? This is a _bad idea.”_ He folded his arms, “What’s your point?” 

“Our point is that none of this is paint!” Luke said, his smile spreading across his entire face resembling the Cheshire Cat; he was so pleased with himself that Alex couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“My parents said that we couldn’t _paint_ the walls. They never said I couldn’t draw on them or cover them with pens, crayons, or markers!” The pride in Reggie’s voice was evident. 

_Yeah, because it’s usually a given that you don’t draw on walls,_ he thought to himself. 

“It was my idea,” Luke said smugly.

Alex bet it was.

Bobby laughed. 

Reggie chucked a marker top at Luke’s head. 

“If they don’t like the drawings then maybe they can get rid of them by letting Reg paint over them,” Bobby said eventually. 

“Exactly!” Luke clapped his hands, “He can paint them with red. And if they want to cover it over in white? They can do it themselves!” he turned around, uncapping the burnt red marker, starting a doodle of a mouse- or a rat. Alex couldn’t tell. 

_They have a point,_ he admitted reluctantly. 

He picked up one of the oil pastels he brought, “Okay, Reggie you’re banned from using the stool- I’ll get all the bits on top,” he tossed one at Bobby, “You can get the top bits of Luke’s drawings," as long as he was here, helping Reggie draw on his walls, he might as well make sure that it was done safely. 

Bobby stood up, tossing his empty bag in Reggie’s tiny wastebasket, “Well, if Alex thinks it’s safe, then it must be so,” he joked, grabbing the pastel and walking over to the side of the room Luke was working on. 

“Alex, I love you!” Reggie exclaimed simultaneously with Luke’s cheer of, “Ye-es!” 

“Bobby I love you too!” Reggie blew the other boy a kiss, “Seriously, Alex, we couldn’t convince Bobby to help us because he was convinced you were gonna flay him or something,” Reggie added seriously. Alex shook his head, smiling fondly as he reached up to color in a cute cartoon ghost Reggie had drawn; he felt like a naughty child, waiting to be put in the naughty corner the second the Peters walked back into the house, “Bobby has good self-preservation skills,” he joked, “You two would die without us,” 

They were dumbasses, but he supposed that he loved and admired their cunning and creativity. 

Reggie wasn’t allowed to paint his walls, and this was certainly not paint, so… 

_Carpe diem._


	4. Chemistry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke has a chemistry project with Reggie. Alex thinks they have enough chemistry between the two of them to get a perfect score (even if they burn Luke's house down in the process)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellllooooo, and welcome to another chapter of my mediocre story :) Thanks for sticking with me this far! 
> 
> (If you left comments or kudos on my previous chapters *gives virtual kiss* ily <3)
> 
> Anyway! I hope you like and enjoy this chapter!

Alex was bored. 

He had spent the entire day, lazing in his room, occasionally going downstairs to get a snack or to get water. He’d talked to Bobby on the phone for a bit, driven Beth to her dance lesson, taken a nap. He’d tried working out a drumbeat for a bassline Reggie had brought to him the other day, but there’s only so much you can do with a half-written bassline- especially when you were tired. 

It wasn’t even that he was physically tired; he was absolutely mentally exhausted. He’d had a particularly strenuous week at school and he _still_ had a lot of work to do; he was worn down and decided for the rest of today, Saturday, he was actively not going to think about school. (which would probably end up making his anxiety worse, but he would cross that bridge when he got to it) He had all of tomorrow to finish it and he deserved a break. 

The problem was that Alex didn’t take many breaks. When he did, his overthinking would leap into overdrive and unless he was preoccupied with the presence of someone else, he would sink into a deep pool of rampant thoughts and boredom.

So, yes, Alex was bored, something he rarely allowed to happen. Usually, it was Reggie, asking to go out because he found being in one place for too long suffocating, or Luke would call because he wanted to seek inspiration or go on an adventure. Bobby, on the other hand, never really seemed bothered by boredom.

To be fair… Bobby also fucking _meditated,_ so…. 

Alex knew that Bobby was out of town that weekend, visiting his grandmother, so hanging out with him was a no-go. He also knew that Luke and Reggie had been paired together for their chemistry project and were supposed to be working on it today. 

It was hard to tell what Luke and Reggie could be up to: they could be working hard, or hardly working, destroying kitchens or drawing on walls, piercing each other, or finally recognized the tension between them and decided to make out on Luke’s bed... it was always a gamble, but Alex decided to take his chances. He grabbed the phone on the end table, typing Luke’s number into the keypad. There were only a few rings before someone answered his call. 

“Hello?” Mrs. Patterson picked up the phone. 

“Oh, um, hi. It’s Alex,” he clarified, “Mercer.” He was more than well acquainted with the Pattersons, but talking to _any_ adult on the phone was a surefire way to get his anxiety to spike. 

He heard Mrs. Patterson let out a soft chuckle on the other line, “I thought maybe it was Luke’s _other_ friend Alex,” she joked lightly, setting Alex’s nerves at ease a bit, “You’d like to speak to him?” 

“If he’s around, that would be awesome,”

“Hold on, love; I’ll bring him down for you,” he heard her calling out to Luke, informing him that he had a call, “Reggie is here- they’re working on a chemistry project… or so I’ve been told,” 

“Mom, _stop,_ ” he heard Luke whine softly on the other end, “Gimme,” 

“Thanks, Mrs. P, have a good day!” Alex called out before there was a rustling, an indication that Luke had snatched the phone. 

There was a rustling before Luke spoke, “Hey Alex!” he said cheerfully. 

“Luke,” Alex flopped dramatically onto the living room sofa, “I’m _bored,”_ He recognized that this was a statement he almost never said to Luke, knowing that the other boy would come up with something ridiculous to keep them all entertained. Currently, he was so bored that he _hoped_ Luke offered up something ridiculous. 

He heard Luke laugh on the other line, “Dude, I thought you’d be at the library with Bobby doing homework or something,” 

This was a fair assumption; it was almost routine that Alex would spend his Saturday mornings with Bobby in the library, “Or something— Bobby’s out of town, remember?” he reminded him. 

“Right- with his grandma?” Luke questioned. 

“Mmm-hmm,” Alex confirmed, “And I can’t think about homework anymore, Luke, I’m not strong enough,” 

“Hey, don’t stress out on me! You’ve got this!” He encouraged, “If there’s anyone who can pull it together, it’s you, Alex,”

“I don’t _want_ to pull it together. I literally can’t think about homework until my brain repairs itself and god knows when that’ll be. I might return it to the store tomorrow- it’s defective. Unsatisfactory performance and whatnot,” he joked dryly.

Luke’s laugh was positively mirthful, high pitched, and amused, “You called me because you think _I_ can help your brain repair itself? I know I’m great and all, but I’m thinking a return might be your best bet.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Lucas. I called you because I’m _bored,”_ the dramatics he was putting on were impressive enough for him to regret allowing his father to convince him out of his high school's acting programs. He was a dramatic person at heart, what can he say?

“Not my name,” Luke chided, fake disappointment in his voice; he was far too carefree to genuinely care about the nickname Alex bestowed upon him in the second grade. 

“Meh,” Alex shrugged, “Tomato, Tomahto,” 

Ignoring him, Luke called, “Reg!” his excitement was painfully evident, “Alex says he’s _bored!”_ There was silence on the other line, indicating to Alex that Reggie was responding. 

“I know, right? Whatever shall we do about it?” The teasing lilt, obvious in his tone, was starting to make Alex regret calling Luke, wishing he’d asked Beth if she wanted to get food instead. Luke was laughing again, as Reggie was undoubtedly offering a solution to his predicament. 

“Listen, we’re finishing up on our chemistry right now, but Reggie says you should come over. We can go and get dinner or something when we’re done,” he suggested. 

Alex sighed; it was entertaining in and of itself to watch Luke and Reggie do anything together- let alone a school project, and science no less? It either ended up being incredibly nerve-wracking to watch or free, fine entertainment. It was rare when it was both, but it did happen sometimes. “Just to be sure… when you say _chemistry,_ you’re talking about the _science,_ right?” he joked. 

“Oh, shut _up,”_ Luke let out a breathy, rhythmic laugh. Alex could visualize the flush on his face, “Yes, _the science,_ you asshole.” 

“Okay, okay,” He mockingly surrendered, “Just making sure I wasn’t interrupting anything,” he smirked. 

“Chemistry project! You’re interrupting our _chemistry project,_ Alex.” Luke groaned, no doubt still red in the face. 

“Uh-huh,” Alex said patronizingly, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder, bending down to tie the laces on his shoes. 

“You’re not funny, but I love you, and you can help us, so see you in a bit!” Luke rushed out, speaking over Alex’s response and hanging up before he could make any more ‘chemistry’ jokes. He grabbed his house keys and fanny pack; it was a nice day out and there really wasn’t a good enough excuse not to walk over to Luke's. 

He chuckled to himself as he walked; he knew that Luke had a bad habit of crushing on everybody. Nothing ever really came of them- the crushes- because Luke has had a grand total of one whole girlfriend his entire life. Despite that, he had a propensity to emotionally connect with someone, and make them his muse for a few weeks, before turning to someone else in the same way. Alex noted that this was never really the case for Reggie, there was something different and always lingering under the surface of their friendship. Bobby had once asked him if he’d noticed ‘sexual tension’, and Alex had responded with a snarky, ‘how could you not?’. Because Alex wasn't the Designated Meddler of Sunset Curve, (he left that up to Mr. Luke Patterson) he decided not to comment on it. 

The walk wasn’t more than twenty minutes and driving would have easily cut that time in half, but he supposed he could use the vitamin d from the sun as well as fresh air. Maybe it would help to put any remaining nerves from his load of homework at ease. 

He ambled up the walkway to the Patterson doorway, hands in pockets and shoulders slightly hunched, wishing he’d worn a jacket. The door was open, letting the cool breeze drift through the house, look and he could see Mrs. Patterson dusting in the living room. 

“Hey, Mrs. P,” he called politely, knocking lightly on the doorframe. As many times as Luke’s mother had told him he was welcome whenever he wanted, he still felt awkward about just walking in. 

“Alex, come right on in,” she instructed, a smile in her voice. “Luke’s in his room,” she didn’t bother looking up as she continued to tidy the front room. 

He pushed the door open, letting himself in and leaving it slightly ajar, the same way it had been he came in.

“How’ve you been, Alex?” she called out as he made his way up the staircase. 

“I’ve been good, Mrs. P. Thanks for asking,” he offered her a smile; it was a question he hadn’t been asked in a while, especially not from his own mother, “Maybe a little stressed with homework, but I was hoping Luke could help me with that,” he amended, evoking a laugh from her. 

“Well, as always, make yourself at home,” she said kindly, busying herself with her previous task. 

Alex nodded, thanking her before completing his track up the stairs; he loved Emily. 

He lightly pushed Luke’s door open, and immediately any sense of ease he felt evaporated. 

The scene in front of him was this: Luke and Reggie were sitting on Luke’s cold, tiled floor. There were markers of various colors littering the ground, along with pencils, clippings of paper, glue sticks, and rulers. There was a giant tri-fold poster board with block letters in the title as well as colorful squares with text written on them. The board was on the other side of the room, so Alex couldn’t make out what it said, but the content of the board was the last thing on his mind at the moment. There was a giant jug of hand sanitizer on Luke’s floor, and there were several smears and globs that indicated that the boys had spilled or knocked it over several times. 

He watched as Luke lit a match and placed it on one of the globs of sanitizer, the horror dawning on him when he watched Reggie _put his hand in the glob,_ his fingertips engulfed by the blue flames. 

“Oh my god, no, no, no stop!! _What are you doing?”_ it felt like everything was slowing down as he watched in horror at what was unfolding. 

His exclamation caused both boys to turn, but neither made any moves to extinguish the fire dancing on the tips of Reggie’s fingers- neither looked particularly concerned either. 

His eyes spotted an old water bottle, half full, on Luke’s nightstand. Hastily, he picked it up, dumping its contents on Reggie’s hand, not caring that it had sloshed onto his pants, the floor, and also Luke. 

“Al- _Lex,”_ Reggie groaned at the same time Luke protested, “Hey!” 

His heart was beating too quickly in his chest for him to even care, or apologize for getting them wet; Reggie’s hand had been _on fire._

“What the _hell,_ you guys?” Alex groaned looking up at the ceiling, “You’re going to burn this entire house down- at the very least you’ll be missing a hand, Reggie! Why am I the only one who thinks rationally about _anything??”_ The exasperation in his voice was evident by its steady increase in octaves, “I thought you were working on _chemistry._ Luke you- I can’t believe you guys— why would you--?”

“Dude, will you _relax?”_ Luke easily, cutting off Alex’s sputtering rant “ _This_ is our chemistry project!” he explained excitedly. Alex looked at him dumbly. 

“There is no way, any teacher in their _right mind_ would allow you to immolate yourselves in your bedroom, Luke!” he blinked, gesturing to their mess on the floor frantically. 

“No, man, this is totally a thing,” Reggie stood up, bringing the board into Alex’s line of vision. “See?” He pointed to a square of text that explained the procedure and science behind the experiment. His eyes scanned over the words, explaining something about Oxygen, Water, Carbon Dioxide, and Ethanol. Out of the four of them, Bobby was the best with language and Alex was the most astute, but Luke and Reggie could run circles around them when it came down to anything STEM; Alex hated chemistry, and his brain hurt by the time he finished the passage, but… it _was_ an actual experiment with actual _science_ behind it. This only made it slightly more reassuring. Only slightly. 

“Cool, huh?” Reggie said, his tongue poking between his teeth as he smiled triumphantly. 

“ _No,_ ” Alex objected, even though it totally was, in fact, cool. “You didn’t even take any safety precautions! You’re not wearing safety glasses, you’re not using— what if the corner of your flannel got caught on the flame by accident, Reggie? Or if one of the bits of paper caught on fire?” 

“We’ve been doing this since this morning, we’ve got a whole system! Every time we touch the fire we put it out with that dish of water over there,” Alex looked over and saw a metal bowl, filled to the brim with water, “so if anything caught fire, we’d just put it out with that. We take safety very seriously, Alex,” Luke said with such a serious expression that Alex let out a snort. 

“We’ve got it completely under control, ” Reggie agreed, “And we’re totally going to ace it!” he added, reaching out a fist for Luke to bump. 

Alex allowed himself to relax at the sight of the bowl of water, “Sorry for getting you all wet,” he forced out, flopping onto Luke’s bed unceremoniously. 

“It’s no biggie, it’s almost dry anyway,” Reggie said, rubbing his hands on his jeans, checking for any remaining moisture. 

“Okay, one more thing, and then we can go get food,” Luke said, squeezing more sanitizer onto the floor. Alex groaned, watching him spread globs of the liquid on the ground, creating various shapes, “Do the honors please, Reginald,” Luke instructed, his voice imitating a posh accent. Reggie came up behind Luke, looking over his shoulder, grinning at what he had created before striking a match and setting each shape on fire. 

Alex glued his eyes to the ceiling again, “Dude, _please_ have the bowl of water ready to put that out when you’re done,” there were a _lot_ of shapes on the ground and Alex was praying that none of it got out of control. 

“Chill, man! Look!” Reggie pointed to the ground when he had lit the last of the sanitizer shapes. 

Alex peeled his eyes from the ceiling, looking down at the flickering, glowing blue shapes Luke had drawn that Reggie had set ablaze. 

_‘Luv u, Alex!’_ it read in shaky, crooked sanitizer letters. 

“Oh, my god,” he rolled his eyes. 

“You love us,” Luke said, grinning proudly. 

“Yeah, I do,” Alex admitted, unable to fight the growing smile on his lips, “Now put that out before you kill us all,” he ordered, laughter lacing his tone. 

“Yeah, don’t know how we’d explain _that_ one to Bobby,” Luke said, reaching to gingerly pull the water bowl towards him. 

“‘3/4ths of the up-and-coming band, ‘Sunset Curve’ die in a burning, passionate fire: the fire was said to be started by lead guitarist- Luke Patterson’s chemistry with bassist, Reginald Peters,’” He gestured upwards with his hands as if he was reading a large headline. 

Reggie only offered Alex a laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement as he helped pour water onto the dancing blue letters. Luke looked grateful that the joke had gone over Reggie's head, but he flicked water at Alex, mouthing for him to _‘shut up!’_ There was a slight pout on his face as he desperately fought against the rouge rising on his cheeks.

Alex laughed, dodging the spritz of water Luke had sent his way. 

Well, he certainly wasn’t bored anymore and probably wouldn’t be for the foreseeable future- he saw himself getting a lot of mileage with this one; messing with Luke often proved to be the peak of fine entertainment. 

He smiled wickedly, _fucking chemistry._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you thought! 
> 
> <3 <3 <3


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